The Hunger Games
by Akiljnas
Summary: Chapter 1 from the Hunger Games from Prims POV. Feedback and comments appreciated!


**PRIM**

I wake up drenched in sweat and my heart pounding against my chest. The sun is streaming in through the thin window film I helped install last winter. I think of the boy in my dream that was just about to slice my throat open. I wonder why I even woke up. I peep out and the town looks ethereal. It's almost poetic the disparity of today. Buttercup is on the bed curled up at my feet, licking my toes. I crawl to her and give her a little hug. She doesn't like it much when anyone else does that, but she doesn't mind me. She has a calming effect on my nerves; I stay there feeling her heartbeat under her fuzzy fur, letting her purring lull me into a sense of calmness. My mother is still fast asleep beside me. I have managed not to wake her up. So I leave her in bed allowing her a few more minutes of rest.

The cheese I had left out on the table is gone. Good I think to myself, grab a bucket and walk out the back shouting for Lady, my goat. She hops around the corner of the little pen we built her, excited to see me. She has the cutest little pink nose which she scrunches up. Katniss gave her to me on my birthday. I like to sing to lady when I milk her. I think it helps her relax. But today I can't think of anything, so I just hum under my breath and get to it. Usually in the morning you can see some of the miners walk by the house for their morning shifts. But I'm sure everyone is probably asleep right now. There's no work on reaping day.

I set the bucket aside when I get in the house. Perhaps I will get a snack for myself. Katniss tends to over stock the food supply as it gets closer to the reaping. Every other hunt she comes back with an extra squirrel, another bag of roots, maybe a bag of berries. Whatever she can salvage she does. And she sets about storing it. I'm pretty sure mother doesn't even notice. But I do. I can see a sort of fear set in, of hunger and starvation taking over in case her name gets called. And so she saves every morsel she can, enough to tide us over a few extra weeks. When father had passed away I used to look to my mother for food, and clothing and shelter. Slowly though, that started to change, and I found myself leaning more and more on my sister. She would feed me. She would bathe me. She would help me with homework and take me to school. I think it was around that time that my equation with my mother had somewhat altered. I love her, very much, as much as I did when I was a baby perhaps. But I don't depend on her anymore. I depend on Katniss.

I set a bowl of milk out for Buttercup and hear my mother stirring. Our house is quite sturdy, my father installed and then reinstalled all the wood and panelling through the house. But it still creeks every now and then. Over time, even though maintained, it has gone into slight disrepair. There is only so much that trading in the Hob can provide. But if something does go a little too awry Gale usually comes around to help. That reminds me that Katniss might probably be at the Hob right now, trading for the day. Even though it's reaping day, the Hob would still be open. Most markets tend to close down by this time but somehow the Hob keeps going.

"Hello, baby girl" my mother says smiling as she comes down the stairs. She calls me that sometimes. I'm not a baby anymore, I'm twelve this year. But I like that she does. I hug her and give her a kiss. She asks about Katniss, knowing that she has already left. She asks about Lady, knowing that I have already milked her. My mother goes about getting some food ready. She throws some fish and greens in a stew. Sets some bread aside and lays out the table.

"Your sister should be home soon Prim, why don't we clean you up?" she asks me.

I nod and head upstairs. I run a bath for myself in a tub and get in. My mother comes in and helps me wash up. We don't do this very often. Usually we just sponge ourselves clean, but because its reaping day my mother has pulled out a small brick of soap she keeps stashed away. I like the way it smells, it's of lavender and roses. Mother scrubs me between my toes, and my fingers and under my nails. She washes my hair with the soap and puts it away. She tickles me and splashes the water on me. I can't help but giggle. I like her like this. When my father passed away, she wouldn't play with me. Or talk to me. Or call me her baby girl. She would just sit there, on a chair, all day. Or lay in bed hidden under a pile of sheets. She doesn't do that anymore.

After the bath my mother pulls out a dress for me. I haven't seen it before.

"Katniss used to wear this" she says in way of explanation. She puts on a long skirt on me and a ruffled blouse. It's lovely and I twirl in it for her. The outfit is a little too big though, so mother and I spend the next fifteen minutes pinning it in place. Mother herself wears one of her dresses from her apothecary days, back when she wasn't married to my father. I notice it's slightly loose on her torso. She puts up her hair and then starts on mine.

When Katniss gets home she has a batch of fresh bread and strawberries with her. We take it and put it aside. We decide we're going to have that for supper, to make it special. Katniss bathes in the tub as well. We had refilled it with warm water. She then puts on one of mothers dresses, a blue one with matching shoes. I watch as mother puts up Katniss's hair as well. She is unrecognizable.

"You look beautiful," I say chocking up.

"And nothing like myself," she responds looking at herself in the cracked mirror that leans against the wall. She turns towards me and gives me a bright smile. She hugs me, and I hug her right back. I hop around as she watches me, smiling.

"Tuck your tail in, little duck," she says, pulling me to her by grabbing onto my skirt and smoothing the blouse back into the seam.

I can't help but giggle "Quack!" I say hopping some more, widening my eyes trying to get a reaction out of her.

"Quack yourself," she says with a light laugh, a jingle that fills the room and warms up my heart.

"Come on, let's eat," she says and plants a kiss on the top of my head. We drink the milk I had brought in a few hours ago and supplement that with the bread my mother had put aside.

At one o'clock, we head for the square; it's one of the places in the district that I like. I'm glad they hold the reaping here. The square is surrounded by shops, and on holidays when the weather is good it has a festive feel to it. Today, there are bright banners hanging on the building, a stage has been set up for the reaping to take place. It holds three chairs, a podium, and two large glass balls, one for the boys and one for the girls. A camera crew is hovering up top on the roofs.

People file in and silently sign in. I see my friend Macy and give her a slight wave. I see her crying and I cling tighter to Katniss. I look back at the balls; one of those paper slips has my name on it. Maybe another twenty has my sisters. And suddenly my eyes are getting misty too. I don't want to do this. I want to run away from here. I want to be home, hugging my cat. Lying in bed. Hiding under the covers. I wipe my eyes with my sleeve and find myself standing in the back of the square with a bunch of twelve year olds. Some are looking down at the ground. Others far away. Some trying hard not to cry. I look on ahead. At the stage. Fighting my emotions. I won't cry. I won't.

The chairs on the stage start to fill in. Mayor Undersea takes his place. He is the mayor of District twelve. A tall, balding man, He must have been handsome once but his face looks aged and stressed out. The other chair is occupied by Effie Trinket. She is the representative for our District, fresh from the Capitol with her pinkish hair, a green suit, and a done up face. I`m sure under all those layers of makeup there is a beautiful face hiding somewhere. The third chair, where Haymitch Abernathy, the only surviving victor from district twelve is supposed to be seated, remains empty.

At two the mayor steps up to the podium and begins to read out the history of Panem, I`ve heard it before, multiple times. Every year when the reaping takes place, the beginning of every school year, Reruns on TV. I tune him out and try and look for Katniss in this enormous swarm of heads. Somewhere behind me my mother is standing. I wonder what would happen if my sisters name is called. I think it and push the thought aside. I keep searching for her till I finally find her slight form. She looks tiny in comparison to everyone else. I keep watching her as she fidgets with her hands behind her back. I wonder what she is thinking right at this moment. She's probably worried about me, Or maybe thinking about going hunting tomorrow with Gale.

"It is both a time for repentance and a time for thanks." The mayor continues. Eventually Haymitch finds his way onto the stage and collapses onto the third chair. He's drunk. Very. The crowd goes ahead and applauds robotically and Haymitch gives Effie a hug which she manages to fend off. All the twelve year olds start giggling. No one before or behind them react. The mayor pulls the attention back to the reaping by introducing Effie.

She saunters on to the podium with a cheerful, "Happy hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favor!" she chirps centering her hair with her hand.

I look down at my feet as my stomach drops. I know what is about to come. Breath held I close my eyes and wait for her to finish her speech. She is going to pull out the names soon. I'm distraught. I pray for Katniss, for myself, for Gale, for my mother, my friends-their mothers even. My hands in fists with my nails digging into my flesh, I see a tear drop wet the dirt under my feet.

"Ladies first!" I hear somewhere. The crowd draws in a collective breath. You can hear a pin drop. And my legs are weak, and it takes everything I have to keep myself standing up. And I pray hard and hope, beg even, that it's not me. It's not her. It's not me.

Effie crosses back to the podium, smoothes the slip of paper, and reads out the name in a clear voice. And it`s not her.

It`s me.


End file.
